Annja smiled. “An interesting tale.”
“Ah, but it gets better, it really does,” Yee said. “The reason that you are most likely not familiar with Muramasa blades is that they gained a reputation for being evil swords that lusted after blood. Some even thought that such a blade should not be resheathed until it had drawn blood. Doing anything less was terribly bad luck.”
“So what about the dragon etching?” Annja asked. “What does that tell us?”
“That is how I recognized the sword as possibly being the Juuchi Yosamu. You see, Muramasa’s name has not enjoyed the fame it deserved because the shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu, ordered his blades outlawed and destroyed whenever found. Regardless of whether or not the blades were actually evil, they did seem to have a negative effect on the Tokugawa House. Kiyoyasu, the grandfather of the first shogun, was cut in two in 1535 when his retainer attacked him with a Muramasa blade. Ieyasu’s father, Matsudaira, was killed by another man wielding a Muramasa blade, and even Ieyasu cut himself severely on his own wakizashi,or short sword, which was also made by Muramasa. When his own son was beheaded with a Muramasa blade, the shogun had finally had enough. He banned their creation, possession and use throughout the empire.”
By now they had entered the public areas of the museum and Yee had to speak louder in order to be heard as they cut across a busy exhibit hall.
“The response to the shogun’s edict was mixed. Many went out and sold off their Muramasa blades hoping that no one else had yet heard the news that they were about to become worthless. Others defaced the blades, scraping off the meiso that no one could tell that it was a Muramasa blade. A few hoarded the weapons, believing they might bring them personal power and financial gain. Those who were found to be hiding Muramasa blades were often executed on the spot, including the magistrate of Nagasaki who, in 1634, was discovered to be hoarding more than twenty-four Muramasa blades.”
At last they reached the Asian Hall, which, as fortune would have it, was actually closed until the morning for renovations of the existing displays. With his pass card, Yee let them inside and the noise level dropped considerably.
“So what makes the Juuchi Yosamu so special? Just the fact that it is a Muramasa blade?” Annja asked.
Yee shook his head. “Not just any blade, but theblade. The last weapon he ever produced.
“You see, legend has it that it was just before winter when Muramasa found out about the shogun’s edit. He knew that the imperial troops would be coming soon to destroy his forge and seize any weapons he had produced. But the swordsmith lived in a small valley between three major mountain ranges. The shogun’s men did not make it up the mountains in time before the winter snows came and so they were forced to wait another three months until the pass cleared enough for them to reach the swordsmith’s home.
“Muramasa used those months wisely, creating his ultimate masterpiece, blending every bit of his anger, jealousy, hatred and desire for vengeance into the blade until the blade itself took on a darker hue than normal. Some say it even gleamed with hunger whenever it drew close to its enemies.”
Annja turned her eye inward until she could see Joan’s sword, her sword, hanging there in the otherwhere, waiting for her to need it again. The blade glowed with a faint luminescence. Did the Dragon’s blade do that? she wondered.
“Unlike other swordsmiths, Muramasa never etched designs into the blades of his katana.He felt that it was doing the weapon a disservice to deface it in such a manner. But he made an exception with his final masterpiece. That one, legend has it, had the image of a rampant dragon added to the blade just above the hilt, its claws stretching downward along the length of the sword as if reaching for the sword’s target, a visual representation of all the darkness he had poured into its construction.
“I would suspect it probably looked very much like the dragon in the drawing you just showed me.”
They were deep in the Hall of Asian Peoples and Yee steered them over to a large display focused on the samurai eras of ancient Japan.
Stopping in front of a particular case that held several different types of sword, he said, “Ah, here we are!”
He took a katanafrom its stand inside the case and withdrew the blade so that Annja could see it.
“Look here,” he said, pointing at a line that ran down the middle of the blade from the narrow tip toward the hilt. “This is known as the hamon.It is the point where the sharper steel, which forms the blade’s edge, meets the softer steel at its core, which gives the blade its exceptional flexibility. During the sword-making process, the smith would paint over this line with a very thin mixture of clay and ash and then heat it all over again, to help bond the two sections together. What was unique about a sword fashioned by Muramasa was the identical hamonthat could be found on either side of the blade. It was one of his trademarks.”
He flipped the sword over to show her that the line tracing down the opposite side of the blade was identical to the former. Annja gasped when she realized that the blade in his hand was a Muramasa.
“May I?” Annja asked.
“Certainly,” Yee said. “But be careful because the blade is very sharp.”
Annja had stopped listening, however. She had taken the sword, leaving the scabbard in Yee’s hands, and had stepped into the center of the room where there was more open space than by the displays. She wanted to get a feel for this blade, get a sense of what she was facing in the presence of its more famous cousin. She slid into the first of several moves of an advanced sword kata, testing the weapon. It was lighter than her own sword, and more maneuverable, but did not have the kind of reach that she liked. She realized quickly, in fact, that she preferred the heavier blade of her broadsword. Still, there was no doubting the craftsmanship inherent in the katana;it was perfectly balanced and cut the air with precision.
She stopped what she was doing and turned, only to find Dr. Yee staring at her with an open mouth.
“That was so incredibly sexy,” he breathed, as if afraid to break the spell, then blushed scarlet when he realized that he had said it aloud.
Annja laughed. “Look out, Uma Thurman, here I come,” she said, knowing Yee would get the Kill Billreference.
She brought the sword closer to her face so that she could get a look at the meinear the hilt. Yee had been right; it was identical to the one on the sword used by the Dragon, if you added in the missing crosspiece on the H-like character.
She walked over to her companion, accepted the scabbard from his hands and moved to slide the sword back inside. As she did, she felt a sharp pain in her finger and looked down to find she had nicked herself on the edge of the blade. A drop of blood welled up as she stuck her finger in her mouth.
“The curse of Muramasa strikes again,” Yee said, with a little something in his voice that said he was more than familiar with the bloodthirsty nature of that particular weapon.
Talking around the finger in her mouth, Annja got back to her cover story. “So, how do I tell if my client’s sword is really the Juuchi Yosamu?”
“The first thing I would do is check the hamon.If they are identical, front and back, you will have your first bit of proof. Then see if the owner will let you examine the meiunder magnification or after it has been polished and cleaned. That might help bring out the missing crossbar to confirm it.
“I have to say this, however. If it is the Yosamu, your client is going to be hard-pressed to sell it for what it is worth. That weapon would be considered by many to be a cultural treasure of the Japanese and I, for one, would want to see it returned to its rightful government. It should not be in the hands of a private individual.”